White Oleander

I couldn’t imagine owning beauty like my mother’s. I wouldn’t dare. It

things you think are eternal. Everything could be lost, more easily than anyone could imagine

I had condemned her by my silence, condemned us both

But hatred, now. That’s something you can use. Sculpt. Wield. It’s hard or soft, however you need it. Love humiliates you, but hatred cradles you

I wanted to hide, to stop up my ears, but I couldn’t stop watching. This was how love and passion ended. The

It was only natural to want to destroy something you could never have

Only peons made excuses for themselves, she taught me. Never apologize, never

“Men,” she said. “No matter how unappealing, each of them imagines he is somehow worthy.”

Beauty was my mother’s law, her religion. You could do anything you wanted, as long as you were beautiful, as long as you did things beautifully

I was, a dog she could tie in front of the store, a parrot on her shoulder